Meanwhile, back inside the venue, Daniel and Anna continued their dance.
The music had softened into something slow and intimate, the kind that wrapped around a couple instead of demanding performance.
"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," Anna admitted with a small smile, her earlier nervousness fading as she followed his lead.
Daniel's hand remained steady at her waist, guiding without controlling.
"It's not rocket science," he murmured. "You just didn't have the right partner."
She rolled her eyes lightly, but she couldn't deny it—under his direction, the steps felt easier. Predictable. Safe. Every time she faltered, his grip adjusted subtly, correcting her without making her feel clumsy.
Maybe she hadn't hated dancing.
Maybe she had just hated feeling exposed.
With him, she didn't.
They turned slowly beneath the chandelier light, her dress catching the glow as if the evening had been built just for them.
And then—
"Boss."
The voice cut through the music.
